Revelation
by Annie-marie6
Summary: An incident with a teacher at school reminds Susan that she is still the Gentle Queen, whether in Narnia or not. This about what she choses to do with that knowledge and what is that? Narnian's in England?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is in Susan's point of view, she get into a bad situation that makes her have a revelation. This is after **_**The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe**_**, and will possibly disregard the rest of the series.**

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Chapter one – You Want a Revelation.

I was bored; in fact I was beyond bored. We were learning simple English in school, something that I had mastered twenty years ago in Narnia, so I had snuck in a book to keep me entertained. Sherlock Holmes was quite the character, if I did say so myself.

Suddenly there was a swishing sound reminiscent to the sound of a sword cutting through the air. I did not think, my foot pushed the desk into them and my hand caught the weapon where the hilt would be. The attacker stumbled back and I slid into a warrior's stance, my back against the wall. Though I had not been fond of battle I had been trained in it.

"Susan Pevensie, you insolent child," they screeched, which was when I came back to myself. I was in my classroom. The teacher on the floor where the desk had thrown his and the birch rod he had intended to hit me with held tightly in my hand.

"By the Lion," I breathed almost silently, how in the world was I going to get out of this one?

"You will hand that over right now and bend over my desk, you insolent child," the teacher, Mr Zane said. He had issued me a caning, something that I had not received since before Narnia.

Everything in me rebelled. I would not allow that man to hit me with a stick, no matter the circumstances… I would not. I was a Narnian Queen, not some pathetic schoolgirl that would allow herself to be punished for defending herself from attack.

"I will not," I said, gently refusing. Mr Zane stood and moved forward, his cheeks blotching red with colour.

"MISS PEVENSIE YOU WILL DO AS YOU TOLD AND STAND UP THE FRONT TO RECEIVE YOUR PUNISHMENT RIGHT NOW!" he bellowed, towering over my twelve year old self. After everything I'd seen and everything I done since stepping foot into that wardrobe this _teacher _was not somebody I was afraid of.

"Like hell," I snarled viciously, snapping the birch rod over my knee. The pieces clattered to the floor and I made to walk out of the room. He grabbed my hand and swung me to face him hand clenched in a fist.

That was simply it; I had had enough and lost my temper. He raised his hand to a lady, even worse in his mind he saw me as a child. How dare he lay his hands on a child. I kicked his leg out from under him and he clattered to the floor.

"That is enough," I said dangerously icy, "How dare you raise your hand to me, I have every right to leave your presence after you attacked me. I have every right to react when I see something fly toward my face."

"You should have been paying attention," he spat.

"I. Am. Not. Finished." I said ferociously, "You cannot hold the attention of a single twelve year old girl, so you decide it is a good idea to hit her with a big stick. You are violent and inadequate; you're teaching leaves much to be desired. Not to mention if you had even bothered to look at what had me so enthralled, you would realise that I already know what you are teaching me. For I would not be reading Sherlock Holmes, should I still need to learn the meanings of third and first persons in literature."

"Miss Pevensie, Mr Zane," a voice called softly, I whirled around and faced the principle. He looked anxious. "Would you please follow me?" I was told to wait outside while the _grown-ups_ talked. The door was left ajar.

"She never raised her voice," Mr Zane said, "That was the worst thing, if she'd screamed or shouted… if she'd thrown a tantrum I could have denied it. The fact of it is, she acted more like a grown up than I did… no, more than that she acted like a _Queen_ and she was right."

I was suspended, for the teacher sake. That teacher never hit a student again; never did he even threaten one. It was when it finally occurred to me that even if I was not in Narnia, was not a Queen in this world; it did not mean that I could not act like it. You want a revelation.

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**Massive writers block on all my other stories, so I started this one. I usually use Lucy as my main character, but this time I decided on Susan. Tell me what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but plot, if I did I be rich… and dead, because I don't think C. S. Lewis is alive. I know the chapters are really short so I'll try and post more than one at a time.**

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Chapter 2 – You Want To Get By.

The next week or so was a revelation. I was sent home, thankfully alone most of the time with Lucy. Mother grounded me; I was forced to spend time alone in my room. That was ok though, because at the moment that was exactly what I needed.

In the end I came to one simple conclusion. I was Queen Susan the Gentle, Lady of Cair Paravel, Duchess of the Lone Islands and, as all Narnian's; Child of Aslan and I did not have to act any different. Which was when I realised exactly how much I had been pretending.

The rest of the week I spent stripping off the layers that had accumulated over the months we had been home. That meant dealing with the issues leaving Narnia had caused. Namely the loss of my child, I had been pregnant when we left. Seven months to be exact. When I was forced into this body again I miscarried, because I was so small I thought that my baby had just vanished.

I forced myself to go over every detail that I could remember and the depression that followed until I had dealt with it. Not merely shoved it away and pretended it did not hurt anymore. I wrote her name on the side of my mirror where I would always see it. _Charlotte Lucy Pevensie._

That was the biggest and the most difficult part of my transformation. The rest essentially consisted of remembering who I was and stopping myself from holding back. When Mother was at work and Lucy was out I would venture out of my room. I would collect things to fix my room and attire.

Clothes were altered and embroidered, Lucy too after she saw me at it. I cleaned out my room, the dolls and toys put into the attic and the lipstick that I had been given by my Mother because _'I was starting to grow up' _was tossed into a draw.

"You're the Gentle again," Lucy said, "You cannot…"

"Why?" I responded, "Once a King of Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia."

"What happens if they notice?" she asked, she wanted to believe me. I knew my sister was tired of pretending to.

"What indeed, I fail to see how it matters," I told her, "You need to find you own path, something that you were always rather good at. What everybody else thinks… does not matter." She smiled a radiant smile and traced the name on my mirror.

"No, I do not suppose that it does," she replied, "You were going to name her after me?"

"Of course," I answered with a sad smile, "I wanted her to grow up and be just like you. Brave, you always were so brave. You made you own decisions and spoke up against people when you thought they were wrong, even when it was Aslan. I always wanted to be more like you."

She looked surprised, before sneaking out and bringing back two glasses, half full of whiskey. We raised them and toasted.

"To the hope that next time we meet we will be the Queen's we are, Gentle and Valiant," she said, I repeated and we clinked our glasses together. The whiskey was beautiful, burning away the uncertainties I had about returning to school tomorrow.

The glasses were put away before Mother spotted them and the next day I was back at the school. The girls in my dorm looked at me apprehensively, I had twisted my hair into an elaborate braid and wore my clothes like a woman. They did not know what to make of me, standing there dressed in a child's best attempt at neat.

"So, back again Pevensie," sneered Janice Whitehall, a particularly unpleasant girl that fancied herself queen bee.

"It's Susan, Janice," I said congenially, "I find the use of last names like that so distasteful, and yes, I have returned." They looked surprised; then again I did not react.

"What, think your all better than us now, just cause you beat up the teacher," Janice spat back.

"No, I do not," I replied putting away my things, "However I do think that it is time for class." After the incident with Mr Zane I was no longer in his class, in fact I took English with the seniors and was planning to take tests to get me into higher classes. At the moment though, we had gym. Our teacher, Ms Elena was late.

"Hello class," the teacher said, she was short, willowy and had pixie like brown curls, "Today we will be starting to learn archery." Ah, I thought, it was going to be an excellent day. Pretty soon we were all set up, a target each. I took a deep breath and pretended I could smell the salt off the sea next to Cair.

"Miss Pevensie, could you stay behind?" Ms Elena asked me at the end of the lesson. I walked over to where she was standing.

"Yes?" I answered. She looked at me like I was something of an enigma, which to be perfectly fair to her I probably was.

"You didn't miss a shot," she said, "I'm good, but I'm not that good."

"I had a unique summer, I learnt all sorts of things that one traditionally does not learn in ones life," I responded diplomatically, the archery skills were cultivated out of necessity, through the wars and adversities that Narnia faced during our rein. "I find it a blessing," I continued, "I hear that not everybody was as fortunate during the evacuations as we were, now if you do not mind I have class."

School became something that I would simply have to get by.

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**What do you think? The reason I made Susan pregnant when she left Narnia is because it was something that I used in my story **_**'The Lost Ones' **_**and it worked rather well for that. This also gives her a reason to remember Narnia.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Narnia doesn't belong to me, obviously. I just can't seem to right a story that doesn't involve at least 1 gay person, for those that don't like to read that sort of stuff. Don't freak out, minor character confesses, that's it. Review me.**

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Chapter 3 – That's Just a Conversation, That I Can't Have Tonight.

School became something of an anomaly; I took classes with the seniors, which meant I was moved into the senior dorms. At the end of the year I was eligible to graduate. My closest friend there became a seventeen-year-old girl that looked rather like a dryad called Patricia Carlson.

"I don't understand, you've only be here two days and your already more comfortable than us that have been here for to months," Patricia said pouting and testing out lipsticks.

"You do not need those," I said, "But in any case if you must, use this one."

"You didn't answer the question," she retorted, whatever else she was saying was cut off by a retching sound coming from the bathroom. I leapt to my feet and went to check on the poor person. "Oh don't bother, its probably just Sandra throwing up her lunch again," she called irritably.

I went into the bathroom. It was Sandra, she'd been throwing up for a couple of months at nighttime, the girls in the dorm said that she was bulimic, but I did not believe that.

"Oh Sandra," I said holding her hair out of her face as she continued to retch.

"I'm sor… sorry about this," she sobbed as she finally stopped, I handed her a glass of water to clean her mouth out.

"Sandra, how long have you been like this?" I asked a spark of intuition firing through my brain.

"About four months," she said, "Cept only at night time." She could be…

"When was the last time you had you time of the month?" I asked softly. Sandra held up her fingers and began to count. Her face screwed up in concentration.

"I don't know," she said finally. I took a steadying breath; this was going to become difficult if it was what I thought it was.

"Tell me if this sound familiar," I said gently, "Bloating, nausea, dizziness, cravings." She nodded tentatively. I presses my fingers against her stomach, the way I had done many a time on pregnant females. "Have you had sex," I asked quietly.

"Yeah, my boy… boyfriend… said he… loved me… and he… wanted to be with… me forever… he lied," she sobbed, "Broke… it off… right after."

"Sandra, when was that?" I asked, she looked at me scared. As if she had just clued on to what I thought was wrong with her.

"Four months," she squeaked. I got up and checked to dorm room, it was empty. Everybody went out on Sundays, shutting the door I knelt down in front of her.

"Sandra… your pregnant," I said, breaking the news as gently as I could. She panicked, starting to hyperventilate.

"I can't be," she cried, "It was only once, I don't want it." She babbled on for quiet some time before I slapped her in the face. She stopped and started sobbing. Leaning back I folded her into my arms and let her cry herself out.

"Shh, shh, it going to be alright," I soothed, "Everything is going to be fine." Eventually she calmed down.

"What am I going to do?" she asked desperately.

"First thing is first," I said, "Do you want this baby?" She bit her lip and flushed in shame as she shook her head.

"No, I wanna get rid of it, I want it out of me," she said in a rush, "But I don't want to kill a little baby." The decision I made then, the choice was so automatic that it wasn't even conscious.

"Then when it's born I'll take it," I said truthfully. It was a second chance for me, to have my baby. Not that it would really be mine, but I would care. I would love it and raise it as my own.

"Your only twelve," she whimpered, "You can't look after it." I shook my head.

"I can and I will, I am planning on moving out of home soon, I finish school this year," I said with conviction, "I will make this work, but right now we have to look after you."

"Everyone will know that I'm pregnant," she whispered fearfully.

"We will not tell anyone, nobody will know," I said, "I can alter your clothes so that you do not show when you get bigger and we will make sure the baby is healthy."

"I'm scared," Sandra said, "I am really, properly scared now." She let out a little half laugh. "You know this is so ironic," she said.

"Why is that?" I asked, rubbing back.

"Because, I should have even been with him in the first place," she responded, "It was just… he liked me and I wanted so badly to be normal. I never wanted a boyfriend… I'm a freak, unnatural."

"But why would you be…. Oh, oh," I said, realising. It was then that I truly sympathised with her, she only got a boyfriend to cover her lesbianism and when she gave him what he wanted to keep her secret she became pregnant.

"I knew somebody like you, she did as she pleased and lived very happily," I told her.

"But it's illegal, for me to love another woman," she said, "How?"

"She did not care," I responded, "She and Willow were the happiest couple that I ever met." Lucy did love her very much, until Telmarines killed her. That was a bad day, for them at least.

"How do you know all this?" Sandra asked me. I paused, that's just a conversation I that can't have tonight.

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**There what do you reckon, I think it's logical. She'd jump at a chance to… I don't want to say replace but I can't think of another word, her lost child. I'll have to speed up her, and by extension Peter, Edmund and Lucy's aging process.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I wasn't really sure about this chapter or rather this story. I need people to tell me if I should bother continuing it? But to make sense of the chapter titles type into youtube No Light, No light, Florence and the Machines, watch the one made by FATMCeremonials.**

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Chapter 4 – You Want a Revelation, Some Kind Of Revolution.

I noticed that I was aging faster. Little things like my hair growing faster, I was filling out earlier, getting taller, if I kept on going the way that I was I would look around eighteen by the time that the school year ended. Of course that would be completely perfect.

Sandra was quite fortunate. She like I during my pregnancy, was not growing much in the way of size. It had only been a few weeks since I found out. Patricia, jealous of the amount of time I spent with Sandra had stopped spending time with me.

The teachers were becoming quite bothersome also; it was like they wanted to know what had changed me. They, along with Mother whom they had dragged up to the school had asked, begged, wheedled and downright demanded to tell me what had caused the change in my siblings and I.

"What happened in the country," Mother demanded, "The boys school had called to and Lucy is downright uncontrollable. Susan Pevensie, if you do not tell me I will go down there and demand that Professor Kirke tell me what he has done."

"I have class now," I said rising up out of my chair, "It was lovely to see you Mother, feel free to come again when you decide to behave like an adult."

Needless to say that she has not visited since that occasion. Either she did not want to come anymore or the school decided that she was not getting through to me and has not asked her over. I believe that she is simply trying to bully it out of Lucy now, Aslan help her. Mother not Lucy, for uncontrollable is one word to describe her another one is untameable.

Letters from Peter and Edmund came often, as well as Lucy when she could manage written in the flowery script of court. That of course is only natural, as that is how we spoke. They all sat in a locked draw in the dorm.

"Sometimes I think I'm having this baby for you," Sandra admitted on afternoon. She was lying with her head in my lap; my fingers were running through her reddish brown hair. "It's like it isn't even mine, I'm just holding it for you. As if it's some ones attempt to say sorry," she continued, "But that's okay, I don't mind."

That was a thought that stayed with me for a long time. I was certain that Aslan did not know of my pregnancy when he sent us back, but if he did find out after… when it was to late… I would like to think that he would have done this for me.

I think I loved dance lessons, the place where I was currently residing. I love to dance and if there was one benefit to being back in England as a child, it is skipping the worst instances of awkwardness that everybody else goes through.

I glided around the room with Peter in a daze. The boy's school was across the road and we took lessons together. I had not told them about my decision to keep Sandra's baby, nor the inkling that it may be a gift from Aslan. The latter I dare not voice aloud, in case I was wrong. I felt in my bones that I was not though.

"So, sister," Peter said cheerfully as we waltzed around the room, "How goes the day?"

"Spending time in your most _Magnificent_ company, the day does indeed fare well," I said relishing in just simply conversing with one that would _by the Lions Mane, _speak properly was fantastic.

"Your company is well loved, especially on the count of you recognising and respecting my _Magnificence,"_ he teased.

"Careful brother, if you are not cautious I fear that you ego will spill out of the ballroom," I responded just as cheekily, "One wonders however did you head even fit inside the door." He let out a loud chuckle and the two teachers just stared at us.

"Good God," I heard one say, "There all as bad as each other."

We laughed together and swung into another dance, the music reel forgotten for the elusive sound of _real _Narnian music. Ed just smiled at us indulgently, sweeping me off for the next dance.

"It is good to be in your company again," he said, as we swept around the ballroom in dizzying circles. Fond memory's swirled through my brain.

"And I in yours," I responded, "Do you remember the way that you and Lucy would dance upon the ledge of the baloney, I was always so scared that you would fall."

"Yes, I do," he admitted, "If were are ever to return there, will you deign to allow my humble self a dance."

"Yes, I shall," I responded, "I shall also lock Aslan and Lucy in a small confined space until they realise the depths of there feelings toward one another." Peter, overhearing us joined us as we laughed together.

We were indeed having so much fun that I did not notice when everybody else had left, nor when Mother and Lucy had arrived. She merely stood there while Lucy joined us. Her beautiful voice singing up songs that had never been herd by anybody in this world but us.

"What are you," Mother finally shrieked hysterically, "Because you aren't mine, you aren't my children. What are you?"

Hoe did we answer that? It was easy to answer we were Narnian's, but to her that wouldn't mean anything at all.

"We do not know what to tell you," I said, my siblings and I all shifting into protective formation. Lucy looked at her with pity, and recited the words to a song she had written in Narnia.

"You want a revelation," she said, "You want to get by, but that's just a conversation that I can't have tonight. You want a revelation, some kind of revelation. Tell me what you want me to say."

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**There, I could continue this, probably quiet easily, I just need people to review me and let me know if it's worth it. cause if not I'll just pull it from the site.**


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